Eternal
by Liisi Laukkanen
Summary: What happens after happily ever after? A couple joined together for eternity are bound to have more than a few stories worth sharing. A collection of one-shots between my OC, Cat, and Paul. Spin-off from my fanfic The Good, the Bad, and the Undead. Rating may change.
1. First Kiss

**A/N: A spur of the moment Valentine's Day one-shot. Paul gives Cat his side of the story of their first kiss. I'd probably suggest reading The Good, the Bad, and the Undead before this otherwise it might be a little confusing in some one-shots, but if you don't want to you could probably get by without doing so.**

"Do you remember our first kiss?" Cat asked softly before she was even fully aware that she was talking out loud.

They were lying in the alcove, Paul had his back propped up against the wall and she sat with her legs sprawled out across his lap with her right side leaning against him, her head resting on his shoulder. She'd spent so long with Paul – verging on every minute of every night – that it was now difficult to remember a time when he hadn't been in her life. Upon this realisation, she'd started to reminisce about the more positive aspects of their first few weeks together.

"'Course I do. First night we met, outside your hotel room."

"The first night we met," Cat echoed with a small smile she couldn't repress "Rather forward of you."

Her amused tone undoubtedly told him that she wouldn't have him any other way.

"Why do you ask?"

"Don't worry, I wasn't testing you," she laughed "I was just curious about what that night was like for you."

"Well," he began mock-conspiratorially, tracing his thumb back and forth over the slither of exposed skin between her underwear and t-shirt "I knew if I didn't do it then, I'd have to wait all damn day for another shot, and I didn't know if I could handle that shit. Then there was the risk you'd have changed your mind before then, too."

"I had no idea I'd put you in such a horrible position," she teased, shifting her head only slightly from its position on his shoulder to press her lips against the side of his neck.

"That made it even worse," he snorted, leaning into her attentions, but not allowing it to distract him "You had no clue what you do to me. Hell, sometimes I think you still don't."

"Hmm," she hummed "It's more denial than disbelief."

"Do you remember that night?"

"Of course," she laughed "I nearly had a damn heart attack."

"You didn't see it coming?" he snickered "Here I thought I was comin' on pretty strong."

"Looking back on it, it was obvious," she admitted, grabbing his free hand and rubbing her thumb over his knuckles "But at the time I couldn't believe you'd even looked at me, never mind _that_. Remember I thought it was all some stupid joke or dare?"

His face darkened for half a second at the memory of what was undoubtedly the worst fight they'd ever had – and hopefully the worst they'd ever have.

"I thought the possibility of you wanting to kiss me was about as likely as David bursting into song and dance," Cat endeavoured to lighten the mood, and smiled when he laughed.

"Ain't something I've ever seen happen before," Paul admitted, before he seemed to remember that she'd wanted to hear his side of that night "But how could I not want to? I couldn't sit still the entire night 'cause it was all I could think of. I was so freakin'… _excited._ "

He seemed to struggle to find the appropriate word for a second, but once he had he continued "I was like 'shit, I finally got _my_ girl and now I gotta wait to even kiss her!'."

Cat blushed, but kept silent, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand as he continued. He responded by moving his other hand from her hip to the outside of her thigh. At first he'd been telling the story unsurely, as if he wasn't quite sure what he wanted to say, but now he was just as engrossed in telling it as she was listening to it. It was odd hearing the night she knew so well, but from a completely new perspective.

"You drove me _crazy_. How you couldn't even look at me without goin' all red, the way you gave back as good as you got when the guys started teasing you. Even the fact that you didn't turn your nose up at the cave…I had to keep touching you just to make sure you were real! I remember when you first got on the bike behind me, you were all tense but too shy to hold on tight. Then I took off and you held on so tight I thought I'd crack a rib," he teased "It was awesome, but it didn't beat taking you back. You were too tipsy to be scared after that, and not as shy no more, so you held on tight but you weren't tense. You were just all relaxed against me. All trusting. Best part was I knew that I could get used to that feeling."

She knew that if she showed the surge of emotion she felt, they'd get distracted and she wouldn't hear anymore, so she kept it to herself and allowed him to continue. It was unlike him to get so willingly chatty about his feelings in the first place, and her curiosity was too strong for her to ruin it now.

"So then we got to the boardwalk. You finally started lookin' me in the eye – I mean, I admired your efforts not to before that, but fuck it was a relief. I mean, you kinda had to be able to _look_ at me for this whole thing to work."

Cat gave an embarrassed laugh, remembering her shyness with him all too well "You're too handsome! It freaked me out!"

"I do my best," he gave a smug grin "So, we got to your hotel room-."

"I know, I was there," she was unable to stop herself from joking.

"Hush, I'm gettin' to the good part," he nudged her in the side lightly, grin still on his face "So you turned and looked up at me with those big green eyes and I knew I was screwed. I think we were joking around, I'll fess up that I don't really remember that part, but all I could focus on was that you were _right there_ and we were finally alone for the first damn time…and you have no idea what those lips do to me."

At some point during his speech, Cat had shifted so that she straddled his lap and they were face to face, listening intently as he spoke. When he trailed off slightly, his eyes flickered to her lips.

"And then what did you do?" she prompted, smiling.

"I thought you were there."

"Refresh my memory."

He stopped leaning against the cave wall so that he was sitting up straight. This gave him even more of a height advantage over Cat, and she shifted forward in his lap. Slowly his arms wrapped around her torso to pull her closer, one hand flat on the small of her back and the other higher, just below her neck. They were more or less face to face once he tilted his head down the slightest bit. They stayed like that for a few moments, with her chest pressed so tightly against his that she was sure she could feel his heartbeat. After practically melting in his tight embrace, she smirked up at him challengingly. That was all it took. With a playful growl, he closed the gap between their lips, his mouth scorching hot against hers. Cat's hands slid from his shoulders, one resting on the side of his jaw and the other continuing up and into his hair as though to keep him there. He didn't seem to mind much, if the buck of his hips was any indication as he bit her lower lip.

Cat groaned and broke the kiss for a moment "Now I _know_ that's not how you did it back then. If you did I'd be dead now. I'd have had a heart attack right then and there."

"Well thank fuck for immortality, right?"

"Thank _you_ , more like," she laughed breathlessly before his lips reclaimed hers.


	2. Self-esteem

**A/N: Even vampire women aren't immune to bouts of low self-esteem. Paul helps Cat through it like only he can. I wanted an excuse to write Paul being an adorable bastard.**

Cat was hot, and usually she knew it. _Usually_. Paul had felt like the luckiest bastard in the world when he saw her and realised that she was _his_ soulmate. The first time they were together and he saw her bare, classic hourglass figure, complete with tattoos, he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. Even the other Lost Boys had known she was attractive, back before they got to know her and she became their sister – after that, they stopped noticing. It would've been too weird. If Dwayne saw her wandering around the cave in mid-summer in shorts and a sports bra, he thought as little of it as he would if it were Paul wandering around in his underwear.

Sometimes, however, Cat seemed to forget that she was hot, and Paul always noticed it. The others did too, of course, but the most they could do to help was stop making jokes about how short she was. Her hem lines would creep down, and necklines up. She'd laugh more quietly and less freely. She'd stop initiating sex as often. He wouldn't even mind if she just wasn't in the mood, but that was far from the case. Did she really think he'd ever reject her advances?! Paul always drew the line when she started wearing clothes to bed – not out of selfishness on his part, but because she'd told him early on, when they first started living together, how damn uncomfortable she was if she didn't sleep naked. It outraged him that she'd ever feel like she needed to hide her body from him, of all people.

The self-deprecating jokes would slip in, too, but he never stood for that.

"People probably struggle to believe _I'm_ with _you_ , anyway," she'd mutter as she applied her make-up or messed with her hair.

"Babe," Paul would frown without missing a beat "I know you're outta my league, but that's just mean."

"That isn't what I meant."

"I know what you meant, and you're delusional. Sober up, come back to reality," he'd joke with a grin "We're the hottest couple on the boardwalk, and are you really gonna leave me to enjoy that alone?"

Whilst his soulmate was far from being a prude, Paul knew Cat's sensibilities were ever so slightly more delicate than his. Because of that, in normal circumstances he controlled himself a bit more than he really wanted to. The last thing he'd want was for her to feel awkward. But these weren't normal circumstances, and if making a big show of just exactly what he thought of her would make her feel better, he was more than happy to comply. Fuck, he was happy for the excuse!

 **A/N: This was going to be longer, but anything I tried just seemed out of place.**


	3. Self-control Part 1

**A/N: Apologies for the inactivity! I'm reaching that time when all of my university assignments are due, so they're taking up all of my creative energy. Luckily, soon I'll be done for the year so I'll have all summer to write.**

Cat squirmed and laughed as Paul tried to rest his chin on her shoulder as he sat behind her. They often sat like this on quieter nights. She'd sit between his legs, her back against his chest and read. Paul would either read over her shoulder (if she didn't feel like reading out loud) or, more often than not, do his best to distract her.

"You need to shave," she protested as she tried to wriggle away and stop his stubble from tickling her bare neck and shoulders "We're going to the hotel tomorrow night to bathe."

"You hate it when I shave," he countered.

"You've put it off too long," she shook her head, prodding his jaw gently "Give it a week or two and you'll look like a hobo."

As incredibly handsome as her boyfriend was, he didn'tsuit a full beard any more than she would.

"We do live in a cave, babe. If the shoe fits."

"Touché."

Paul made a triumphant noise, but Cat continued.

"But you still need to shave."

"It's a _pain_ in the _ass_ ," he grinned, being petulant for the sake of it now, and they both knew it "You want me to shave so bad, you do it."

"I'll shave your face if you shave my legs," she snorted, flicking to the next page.

"Deal," he agreed immediately, wrapping his arms around her torso and practically yanking her closer.

Of course, this completely threw off Cat's balance, sending her scrambling to stay upright, but Paul was undeterred.

"Asshole!" she protested with a shriek of laughter, pretending that she was going to smack him in the head with her book.

He was unfazed, taking the opportunity to pull the book from her grasp and toss it out of her reach.

"You're getting the raw end of the deal, Paul," Dwayne called over, shaking his head "There's more of her legs than there is of your face."

Their brothers rarely got involved with their childishness, but apparently Dwayne couldn't bear to see his brother conned so.

"Are you saying I have huge legs?" Cat huffed in mock offense, still doing her best to twist out of Paul's vice-like grip.

Paul, to his credit, was completely unbothered by this and she found herself cursing how damn deceptively strong he was.

"Gigantic," Marko joined in now, pressing a hand to his chest when Cat flipped him off in response.

"Just you wait, next chance I get that jacket's going in the fire," she teased with a smirk, before groaning and turning her attention to Paul "Let me go."

She knew if she'd sounded anything other than half-hearted, he would have, but she cursed him for knowing her too well. That, or her acting skills were awful.

"No can do," he shook his head and then lowered his voice and spoke directly into her ear "And we both know I'd rather have my hands on your legs than my face any day."

Cat faltered for a moment. It would be only too easy to give in…but that would mean admitting defeat.

"Paul," she whined "I was reading."

"You barely care about it!"

Of all the people in relationships with men who never listened to them, she just had to be lucky.

"Of course I do!"

"Prove it. Name three characters. David, you've read it right? You'll know if she's lying."

"What book?" David replied, having been preoccupied with the bike parts strewn out on the cave floor in front of him.

"Far From the Madding Crowd," Cat supplied begrudgingly, sending David a look that screamed ' _You better cover for me, you asshole._ '

David's smirk told her he had no intention of doing any such thing.

"Easy. Bathsheba…"

"One."

"Oak."

"That ain't a name, it's a fuckin' tree!" Paul protested, looking to David for confirmation.

" _Gabriel_ Oak," Cat clarified smugly, and David nodded.

Paul grumbled "Two."

Cat faltered. Shit. Who else _had_ there been? The longer she paused, the more she felt Paul snicker behind her.

"It's on the tip of my tongue," she groaned truthfully.

"Ha. That's what she said," Marko contributed.

Cat bit her lip to stop herself from laughing, none of the others bothered.

"I know it!" she suddenly cried, before continuing confidently "Hardwood."

There was a moment of silence before the boys burst into fits of laughter. Paul buried his face into the side of her neck, bouts of laughter interspersed with him repeating " _Hard wood_? Really?"

"Oh my god, you're all two year olds," she grumbled, flushing when she realised what she'd said "That's his damn name! Take it up with Thomas Hardy!"

" _Hardy_ , huh?" Paul snickered and Cat groaned even more loudly and dramatically.

"Hate to break it to you, Cat, but you fucked up," David shrugged once he was quite finished laughing at her "It's Boldwood. Kudos for the dirty mind, though."

Cat immediately opened her mouth to argue, and then quickly realised she didn't have a leg to stand on and closed it.

"Not your night, is it, babe?" Paul teased behind her.

"No sex for a month," she lied, huffing and crossing her arms.

"As if that would ever happen," Marko snorted.

Cat's head snapped to him and her eyebrows arched "My dear brother, that sounds an awful lot like a challenge."

"Maybe it is," he wriggled his eyebrows, leaning back in his chair with a renewed look of interest on his face.

"What? No, no, no," Paul interrupted immediately, his voice gaining a whole new level of seriousness that had Cat snickering this time.

"No, Paul, Marko here is insinuating that we have no self-control," she waved a hand at his protests.

"He's right! We don't! Well done Marko, you win, c'mon babe let's go to bed."

"Let's discuss stakes and terms," Cat ignored Paul's protests, turning her attention back to Marko.

"No! Let's not!" Paul continued to protest.

"You n' Paul don't screw for a month."

"A week," Paul cut in, seeming to realise he wasn't going to get anywhere by protesting.

"Three weeks," Marko gave Paul a shit-eating grin.

"Two," Cat amended "Define 'screw'."

"It's like a small pin that you use for DIY to-."

"David, that is quite possibly the most unfunny joke you've ever told and if you continue I'll be forced to leave the cave," she shook her head with a wince "Marko, can we kiss? Second base? Third?"

"Well, I didn't know you felt like that about me Cat, but-"Marko began.

"Oh my _god_ ," Cat made a long exasperated noise "Is it pick on Cat night? Is that what this is? You know what I meant, you prat."

"Hurtful, Cat, real hurtful."

"That's what I'm here for," Cat gave a small laugh "Now answer the question."

"Everything but full on fucking," Paul demanded.

"Well when you put it so romantically," Cat quipped, before turning to Marko to see what he made of that 'suggestion'.

"In your dreams," he snickered "Way too easy. Second base at most."

"You're giving them that much leeway?" Dwayne broke his role as an amused observer, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"You call _that_ leeway?" Paul muttered.

"You really think Paul's gonna be able to get to second base and then just stop? Maybe in the beginning, but I give you guys maybe a week before you snap," Marko explained.

Cat found herself incredibly amused at the impressed looks on David and Dwayne's faces. Marko remained incredibly smug, his eyes meeting Paul's somewhere behind her with that same shit-eating grin. She didn't even have to see Paul to know how unamused he was. He was making that perfectly clear. Part of her knew she was going to regret it, but she wasn't one to back down from a challenge.

"Okay, so when we win what do we get?" she enquired.

"Whatever it is won't be worth it," Paul said.

"I'll be your servant for a week," Marko shrugged easily.

Damn, he must've been sure that he was going to win if he was willing to go that far. Cat refused to let her nerves show at Marko's outright confidence.

"Kinky," she quipped, leaning back into Paul's chest.

"And we're the childish ones," David rolled his eyes.

"And when I win, one of you does the same for me," Marko continued.

" _If_ we lose – which we won't – whoever initiated the sex has to take the punishment," Cat suggested "Since it'd be their fault."

"So it's gonna be Paul," Dwayne snickered.

"Most importantly," David cut in, talking to Marko "How are you gonna know if they're telling the truth when they say they haven't done anything?"

"You don't think it'll be obvious if they have and if they haven't?" Marko asked, an amused smile playing on his face "They aren't exactly gonna win best actor or actress at the Oscars any time soon."

Dwayne and David nodded in agreement and Cat turned her head to frown at Paul "How transparent are we?"

"Like glass, babe," Paul sighed, leaning his head back against the arm of the couch "This is such bullshit."

Marko was unfazed by Paul's complaints, and turned to his two other brothers "Care to place your bets, gentlemen?"

Cat was unsurprised that both of her brothers bet against her.

* * *

To say that Paul sulked for the rest of the night would be putting it mildly. It got to a point where Cat actually became worried. Had she gone too far in accepting Marko's challenge? Sure, it'd be annoying, but she didn't really see it as _that_ big a deal. She'd been with Paul for years, their relationship hardly depended on sex…but she should've at least talked to him about it first. Cat thought she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't care, but perhaps this was proof that although they knew each other exceedingly well, neither of them were mind readers.

An hour or so before dawn, she followed him to the alcove, her brow furrowed as she chewed on her lip nervously. Closing the curtains behind them (and ignoring the taunts of "Keep it PG-13!" from her brothers), she turned and was fully prepared to apologise…and then she saw the grin on Paul's face. Before she could react, he quickly pressed a finger to his lips, signalling for her to keep quiet until they were sure the others had retreated to bed. After a few moments, he spoke.

"How's that for acting, huh?" he grinned at her as he kicked his boots off, chuckling at the bewildered expression on her face "So what are we gonna make Marko do first? Clean my bike? Alphabetise your books? And then we'll have the cash from David and Dwayne because they actually fell for it – _ha_!"

A slow realisation dawned on Cat, and she barely held back the indignant shriek forming in the back of her throat.

"That was all an act?!"

Paul's grin became Cheshire cat-like.

"Oh you absolute asshole," she heaved a sigh of relief "I thought you were pissed off at me!"

"Couldn't let you in on it without tipping them off," he admitted apologetically "And now they think I'm gonna snap real easy…"

"…So they won't even think to try and sabotage us," she finished for him with a knowing grin "Oh, we are _so_ going to win this."

"That's my girl. C'mere," he pulled her into an embrace, as a wordless apology for worrying her "Just wear clothes to bed today. My self-control isn't as bad as they think it is, but it's not _that_ good."

 **A/N: This is part one of two. Hopefully I can write the next part soon if I get a head start on my assignments. As usual, thank you guys so much for reading and reviewing, it makes my day.**


	4. Self-control Part 2

**A/N: So…turns out this little prompt will probably end up having four parts rather than two. I figured it's better to update somewhat regularly with semi-decent length updates than updating maybe twice a year with super long updates :')**

"Babe!"

Cat glanced up as Paul hollered across the boardwalk.

"I think he's talking to you," David muttered, eyebrows raising in amusement at the commotion his brother was causing.

She snickered and finally caught sight of Paul, standing in one of the boardwalk stalls, holding some kind of fabric over his head proudly. What _was_ that? Whatever it was had a Union Jack design. Squinting, Cat turned to her brothers when they burst into fits of laughter, clearly they'd worked out what it was.

"As if his crotch doesn't already show enough dedication to the British," Marko snickered, nudging her in the side.

That's when Cat realised what Paul was waving in the air. A pair of boxers, with what was quite possibly the most garish Union Jack she'd ever seen covering them.

"Not lately," David smirked at Marko "How long left to go, Cat? Ten days?"

"Oh my god, he has to get those," she pointedly ignored David's taunting, striding towards Paul, struggling to conceal her laughter at the both amused and annoyed looks he was drawing from tourists, depending on their age.

"If I wear these, will you take 'em off me?" he asked playfully, holding them against himself.

"Mmm, with my teeth," Cat purred, and then sent a wink to the teenage girl who was dividing her time between staring at Paul and scowling at Cat.

"Well then I guess I can afford 'em," one corner of Paul's mouth twitched upwards at the exchange, the smug bastard, as he dug out some cash from his jacket.

"We are getting a _week_ at the Hilton hotel in LA after this, I swear," Cat groaned as they left the stall, Paul slinging an arm around her shoulders.

"A year," Paul corrected, expression equally grim "And we'll only stop for pizza and beer breaks."

"A decade?" Cat suggested lightly, grinning.

"Now we're talkin'!"

"That's your influence on me," she laughed as they rejoined the others, who were scoping out the boardwalk.

"Well remind me to influence you more often," he muttered, but he looked more on-edge than teasing now.

This was the night they were both most nervous about. They'd put off feeding as long as they could, knowing the after-effect it had on both of them, but now it was time. Cat wasn't even sure they'd be able to hold out. Their brothers knew this as well, judging by how incredibly smug they'd been all evening. Feeding was incredibly similar to being high or drunk – both of them had less control over their actions, and simply did whatever they wanted to…and what Paul and Cat were dying to do was pretty damn obvious. Her, possibly futile, tactic was to wear as many layers and complicated pieces of clothing as possible (her jeans were so tight she usually had to wrestle to get out of them), complete with accessories like multiple belts that would get in the way. The longer it would take them to get out of their clothes, the more time they had to come to their senses and stop. Although that had never really stopped them before.

"Well, let's get this over with," Cat sighed reluctantly, and they began to saunter down the beach.

She tried not to be discouraged by the fact that Paul was visibly steeling himself for what was about to come.

* * *

Not even five seconds after the last drop of blood had been drained, Paul and Cat's eyes locked over the bonfire. Time stopped and Cat faltered. The only thoughts that she was capable of processing were that Paul was right there and she wanted him. Everything else disappeared. The same thought process seemed to be going on in Paul's mind, for he literally _growled_ and a half second later, they collided.

He was like a man possessed, hands everywhere – yanking her closer, kneading at the flesh of her hips, pulling at her hair. She almost moaned when their lips finally met. Cat clung to him, her nails tickling the back of his neck as she snaked her hands upwards to tangle in his hair, giving herself some kind of leverage to move onto her tip-toes. In any other circumstance, this would be when Paul made some smart-ass comment about her height, or at least chuckled. This, however, was not just any circumstance. After too little for too long, Paul's sense of humour seemed to be uncharacteristically absent. Without his jokes to lighten the mood, Cat could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage with the intensity of it all. With a growl that resonated deep in his chest, Paul wrapped one arm tight around her waist to pull her as close as possible, the other going to one of her thighs and hiking it up his hip.

Following his lead, and using her infinitely useful powers of flight to make things easier, she brought her other leg up so that they wrapped around him, locking her ankles behind him. It was the most physical contact they'd had since she could remember, and the feeling bordered on euphoric. That train of thought almost made Cat pause. Why _had_ they gone without sex for so long? The question was thrown from her mind when Paul pulled away, placed a sloppy kiss on the side of her jaw before he bit into the left side her neck. She did moan at that, left hand staying tangled in his hair to urge him on, whilst her right hand untangled itself to creep under his jacket, attempting to slide it from his shoulders.

He grunted and briefly let go of her to shrug the jacket off before he manoeuvred them both down into the sand. Their lips met again almost immediately. Paul growled when she bit his lower lip, his hands moving down, searching for the hem of her tank top…and coming to a halt when he found the black pleather underbust corset on top of her jeans and top, holding both firmly in place. He practically snarled, sitting up when he noticed a couple of additional studded belts that she'd criss-crossed over the top of that. That was the first blow to the mood.

"How long do we have to watch?" she was vaguely aware of Dwayne muttering uncomfortably – the second blow to the mood.

Paul dispatched the first belt, lifting her hips up surprisingly gently for his current state to pull the belt from under her and throw it out of their way. Then he started on the second one. Cat growled in annoyance at the delay, her hands going down to work on the corset whilst Paul was preoccupied with the belt. She cursed the stupid thing as she sat up and squirmed to reach the fastenings at the back. It was a cheap thing she'd bought from the boardwalk, more for Paul's benefit than her own. The clasps at the front were faulty, meaning she could only get in or out of it by spending a good solid chunk of time clawing at the fastenings at the back. With a sigh, she fell back into the sand, chest heaving as she waited for Paul to dispatch the second belt. When he was done with that, he could cut the stupid corset off of her for all she cared. She'd never even bothered wearing it out of the cave – it had been stupid to do so for feeding, of all things, and especially considering she knew what always came afterwards (or _who_ , given the circumstances). That thought nagged at her, but she was half-distracted by the fact that Paul had finished with the second belt and turned his attention back to her neck, snatching his knife from his belt. His hands snaked underneath her, encouraging her to arch her back as much as she could, giving him room so that he was less likely to accidentally hurt her with the knife. She sighed, any concerns about the corset quickly leaving her mind as the way she arched her back ground her hips right against Paul's. And then she heard Marko's voice.

"We just need to hang round 'til we can be sure they're gonna lose. Don't worry, I ain't got no intention of seeing all the gory details," he snorted somewhere in the distance.

The words rolled around in the back of her mind for a few moments, even as she moved her hands underneath the ripped parts of Paul's shirt, humming contentedly at the skin-on-skin contact…and then her eyes flew open. " _They're gonna lose_ ". The bet. That stupid fucking bet. For half a second, Cat was sorely tempted to continue anyway. They were so _close_ after so long and she didn't want it to stop.

"Better start planning how you're gonna make them miserable," Dwayne commented.

Ah, fuck. Full sobriety washed over her at that, and the blissful ignorance was gone. What _wasn't_ gone, much to her annoyance, was her desire for Paul. Cat groaned, letting her head fall back again. Paul kept going, mistaking her groan for one of pleasure, and she sighed.

" _Paul_ ," she removed her hands from his shirt.

Again, he was too far gone to realise she wasn't encouraging him, making a triumphant noise when the corset came free – he threw this particular piece of clothing into the fire, apparently personally offended by how much of a hindrance it had been. Then he reached for the hem of her shirt and she slapped his hands away. Immediately he was off of her, staring in confusion and concern. Running her tongue over her teeth, Cat knew she'd gone back to looking fully human, but Paul's eyes were still tinged amber and his cheekbones were ever so slightly more prominent than usual. He wasn't thinking clearly yet.

"Did I hurt you?" he breathed, eyes scanning over her and then down to the knife in his hand.

"No! I mean," she paused and sat up, noticing the slight throb where his teeth had sunk into her neck "Not in a _bad_ way. It's…It's the bet."

"The bet?" he stared obliviously, but was visibly coming down now, his features returning to normal as he took in his surroundings before finally groaning " _Fuck_. The bet."

Part of Cat almost wanted him to try to convince her to say "screw it" to the bet and continue anyway, but of course he didn't, and no matter how much she loved him for it, it didn't quell her rage towards the entire situation. He was her _soulmate_. They'd fought tooth and nail to be together, and now because of some stupid dare, they had to constantly doctor how they acted around each other.

She was too hot, her heart was hammering in her chest and she felt like she had ten years' worth of energy buzzing through her. She missed Paul, and if she was honest, she was so turned on it verged on painful. What was worse was that he was _right there_ and more than willing to help…but he couldn't. Not if they didn't want their lives to be miserable for a solid week. With a frustrated noise, she scrambled to her feet, swore loudly and kicked a boot into the sand, sending it flying into the bonfire.

There was a pregnant pause. For once none of them quite knew what to do. Other than David, of course, who was watching the whole thing with poorly disguised laughter. Cat's mind was racing. She needed some way to get rid of all of this damn energy so she could think clearly. Finally, with a huff, she spun on her heel and started marching in the general direction of the boardwalk.

"You," she pointed at Marko accusingly as she stalked past him "Are an asshole."

"I think we underestimated Cat's libido," David muttered, but she chose to ignore _that_ comment as she picked up her pace and eventually broke into flight when the trees offered thick enough coverage, knowing she'd apologise to Marko when she calmed down.

It wasn't just general sex that she missed (although she missed that, too). Although not fully fixable, thatproblem was at least _manageable_ with the use of her hands and some imagination. No, what Cat missed was the intimacy. Of course, she and Paul were still as close as ever – it would take a lot more than abstinence to change that – but there were still times she missed, even after only four days. Like the times in the early evening, when they'd just woken up and it revolved more around lethargic movements, quiet laughter and simply revelling in each other, rather than mutual pleasure seeking. In times like those, the adoration was almost tangible in the air, to the point where Cat was almost overwhelmed by it. That could hardly be replaced by her hands, and she didn't know if she could handle another ten days.


	5. Accident

**A/N: A bit of a step away from the usual fluff and humour. So far Cat's been the damsel in distress most often, so I wanted to turn the tables.**

"Paul?! _Paul_!"

This wasn't happening. This _couldn't_ be happening. Sheer terror welled in Cat's chest as she sprinted through the trees in the direction she'd last seen him go. They'd never had an accident this bad before. Usually when something went wrong with one of the bikes, their ability to fly saved their asses – they'd have time to right themselves in mid-air before any kind of impact could harm them. Unfortunately, that required time and fast reflexes, and on this night they hadn't been so lucky. Paul had gone hurtling into a tree trunk.

The next few seconds felt like hours. When she caught sight of him, she almost wished she hadn't. Paul was strong, and he was resilient, and he was boisterous. Nothing could harm him. The crumpled heap at the roots of the tree told a different story. Cat didn't even wait until she was next to him to begin biting into her wrist. All she knew was that he needed blood, and he needed it now. In her panic she bit down too hard, and more blood spilled out than she intended. It didn't matter. Somewhere in the distance the boys were calling their names, but she wasn't even capable of answering.

Even in the darkness, she could see that Paul was pale. Far too pale. He was taking in shallow rattling breaths, and his eyes were hazy as he watched her kneel beside him. All she could do was desperately press her bleeding wrist against his lips and pray to any and every god out there that he was going to come out of this. He had to. What would she do if he didn't?

The moments between her pressing her wrist to his lips, and him beginning to drink, felt like an eternity. In reality it couldn't have been more than a second or two, but it was too much time for her to contemplate a life without him. No more curling up together in bed, talking and laughing about nothing in particular. No more lazy kisses first thing after waking up. Nobody to share her deepest thoughts and worries with - or even the stupid, insignificant ones that made him snicker and smile at her like she was the best thing he'd ever seen. Nobody to pull her out of the dark places her mind often wandered to with stupid jokes or cheesy compliments. No more of his wide, crooked grins. There was a physical ache in her chest by the time he managed the first swallow, and tears slipped from her eyes. The first was weak, almost subconscious. As though he'd simply swallowed so he wouldn't choke, and not because he knew he had to. By the third or fourth mouthful, one hand had raised to hold her wrist to his mouth.

In any other situation, the process would've been fascinating. Colour returned to his cheeks, and the spark back to his eyes. Scratches disappeared as his skin knitted itself back together, and there was a sickening crack or two of bones returning to their rightful place. All Cat could do whilst he drank was press her face into his shoulder and sob. Whether she began to feel faint because of blood loss, or because of the weeping she didn't know. The next thing she was fully aware of was a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back, and Paul's hand falling away from her wrist.

Dwayne was there, questioning her, but everything was too hazy for her to fully make out what he was asking her. Slowly, her eyes moved from her brother to Paul, who was breathing deeply but now lucid, running a hand through his hair as David slowly helped him to his feet. Then Marko's arms were around her torso, attempting to help her in the same way. She continued to stare at Paul. He was alive. He was fine. Everything was going to be okay. She still couldn't breathe.

BREAK

"Well, I say we have cause for celebration," David declared as they entered the cave, sounding a lot less shaken than he looked.

"I'm really tired, I'm just gonna read for a while and go to sleep," Cat murmured weakly, pale and dazed in the warm glow of the fires.

There was a streak of blood on her left cheekbone, but before Paul could reach out to wipe it away, she was retreating to the alcove. He shrugged it off. She must've been tired – he couldn't remember much about the accident. One moment he was on the bike, the next Cat was kneeling over him, sobbing and pressing her wrist to his mouth. He must've drank too much and really taken it out of her. Guilt flared in his chest as he watched her disappear behind the curtains. It had been a close call, but luck had been on his side, it seemed. Or Cat. His little guardian angel. Paul suppressed a smirk at that. He'd find a way to thank her properly once she was rested. For now, beer. David was right, celebrations _were_ in order.

He was on his third beer when Dwayne put a hand on his shoulder "What's up?"

"Go see Cat, man," Dwayne murmured quietly, shooting a glance towards the alcove, where she'd drawn the curtains closed.

"Huh?" Paul blinked "She's going to sleep."

Dwayne gave him an exasperated look and shook his head "Trust me on this one."

If Marko and David noticed their exchange they didn't show it, so Paul stood and sauntered over to the alcove, still not entirely sure that Dwayne wasn't playing some kind of weird prank on him. Maybe Cat was in on it too. That wouldn't surprise him. Trying to be quiet in case she really was asleep, he slowly lifted the curtain to the side a little to glance in. She was huddled on his side of the bed (although that didn't mean much, usually they just slept wherever they fell on the mattress), curled up and buried under the covers. So she was asleep, like she said. Rolling his eyes, Paul was about to return to his brothers until he heard a sniff. His focus doubled, and it quickly became apparent that she wasn't sleeping.

When he slipped into the alcove she didn't move, either she hadn't noticed him or she was pretending to be asleep. The way she jumped when he knelt on the mattress quickly gave him the answer to that. Her hands had been over her face, but now they fell away and his heart sank when he saw how red and puffy they were. All this time she'd been in this state, and he'd been next door drinking. Guilt shot through him. How had Dwayne seen this and not him?

"Babe," he sighed quietly.

"I'm fine," she insisted, but her voice was high-pitched and breathy "Go…Go back."

She was gasping for breath even as she spoke, and he shook his head fiercely "You're not okay, Cat. C'mon. Talk to me about it."

Cat was in no state to protest as he manoeuvred her so that she was practically in his lap, his chin on top of her head – but apparently she didn't want to protest, one arm wrapping around his back, whilst her other hand lay flat against his chest.

"You….You…You could've…"she shook her head and dissolved fully into tears, clinging to him tightly as her voice broke " _I love you so much_."

Paul's first panicked instinct was to try and lighten the mood just to get her to stop the damn crying. To tell her that she was being silly or crack a joke – after all, he was _right there_. He was fine! There was no need for her to cry! It wasn't the first close call he'd had in his time, although it was the first she'd witnessed. One simple thought stopped him in his tracks.

 _What if it had been her?_ What if she'd been the one, banged up, bleeding and near death on the forest floor? The mental image alone was enough to make his blood run cold. So instead he tightened his grip on her even more, if only to prove to her that he was there, buried his face in her hair and let her cry, blinking away the tears that he didn't want to admit were welling up in his own eyes. Whether it was due to seeing her in such a state or the thought of her being gone, he didn't know. He didn't want to know. For a long time, the only words he murmured were "I love you, too."

When her ragged gasps and weeping turned to quiet hiccups and occasional sobs, she spoke again.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed.

It took Paul a second to even register that she'd spoken, lifting his head and looking down at her in surprise "What do you mean?"

"I'm being ridiculous," she shook her head, avoiding his eyes "You're the one who went through that, and here I am being hysterical. I shouldn't have made it about me. You should go back to-."

He ignored her apologies "You saved my life tonight."

Cat's head shot up and she stared at him with wide, teary eyes. Shaking his head, he wiped her cheek with his thumb "Talk about how you freaked out all you like, but you still helped…and now you're gonna get pissed off at yourself for getting upset? Fuck, if that'd been you I'd…I don't even wanna think about it."

"The guys all seem fine."

"They just don't show it. What, you think David's gonna shed a tear and tell me how much I mean to him?"

He was rewarded with a quiet laugh from her, and grinned.

"Maybe not," she shook her head before resting it against his chest again, fingertips playing with the holes in his shirt "…I nearly lost you. I don't know what I'd do."

"It'll take a lot more than that to get rid of me."

Not long after that, Paul made his brothers swear up and down that they'd make sure Cat was okay if anything did happen one day. The confusion they showed him at the fact that it might even be in doubt was more comforting than he'd ever admit to them.


	6. Betrayal Part 1

**A/N: Things can't always be rosy between our favourite couple, especially considering how far out of his field of experience this whole thing must be for Paul.**

After Cat initially settled down in Santa Carla and things simmered down a little, there was only one big hiccup. Paul had never been in a truly serious and committed relationship before, that much was clear, and whilst Cat knew deep down that she had no reason to be concerned about fidelity, she did suspect there'd be a time or two when he made some stupid mistakes. After all, the situation was new to him – as it was to her, but in a different way. Cat was used to being alone, if not somewhat reclusive. Paul, on the other hand? Well, he'd been a man-whore. Not that she could blame him. He was hot and had quite literally all the time in the world at his fingertips, what he did for fun before she got there was up to him. _Before_ she got there.

These "stupid mistakes" that Cat had anticipated came in the form of his feeding habits. On a rational level, she knew that the easiest way for him to quickly feed alone would be to find some random lonesome drunk girl, flirt heavily and convince her to follow him to a secluded spot. Hell, she couldn't even judge – it was more or less how they'd met, wasn't it? This, however, didn't mean she had to like it. At the same time, she was reluctant to say anything. The very last thing she wanted was her shitty insecurities getting in the way and making Paul think she didn't trust him.

With a giggle, she let him pull her against him and out of her thoughts, looping her arms around his neck as he squeezed her tightly to him.

"You look hot tonight," he murmured, voice low and eyes sparkling down at her.

"Mmm, so do you," she used her arms around his neck as leverage to pull herself up so she could kiss him.

"True," he broke the kiss to snicker before his hands trailed down to her thighs to haul her upwards a little, helping give her added height so they could continue.

"Oh, _stop_ ," David groaned from somewhere beside them – apparently they hadn't been as quiet as they'd thought.

Paul pulled back again, and Cat assumed he was about to make some kind of smart-ass comment to David, but he looked to her instead, hands moving back to her waist.

"I'm gonna go grab a bite," an amused smirk played on his lips at his own joke "Then I'll be right back, 'kay?"

It was like a bucket of cold water. If her expression faltered, Paul didn't notice, and she removed her arms from around his neck, trailing them down his chest before taking a reluctant step back. Paul gave her one last wink before letting go of her and leaving the group. In an attempt to take her mind off of the nagging worry, she turned to Marko and gratefully accepted the half that was left of the small circular pot of ice cream that he no longer wanted.

After a few moments, Cat looked up to check on his progress and immediately wished she hadn't. He'd found his target. A tall tanned brunette, with a figure any supermodel would be proud of, and a smug, brilliant grin to match. Dropping the ice cream with a grimace towards her thighs, Cat felt her mood plummet and her heart hit her ankles. When she looked up again, she met Dwayne's concerned gaze and gave him her best clueless look.

"You okay?" he asked, leaning towards her so nobody else would hear.

"Of course," she blinked dumbly "Why?"

"Cat," he tilted his head in exasperation, eyes boring into her.

She remained undeterred. But out of the corner of her eye she could still see Paul putting the moves on the tourist. It reminded her too much of the night they met. Chancing another glance in their direction, she regretted it once again – but had expected as much. They were standing incredibly close. Too close. Paul smiled crookedly in amusement at the girl whilst she smirked confidently at him in return, chest thrust out.

Cat hated this. She felt like the old her. The cripplingly insecure mortal her. All she could think of was when she'd been in the girl's position, she'd been a stammering, blushing mess – barely even able to look him in the eye. What the fuck did he even see in her? Nothing, if not for a twist of fate. One that, deep down, he probably considered unlucky at best, and a burden at worst. His brothers had their pick of any girl on the boardwalk, any night. There was no way he didn't harbour any resentment at that loss. Was this feeding strategy a small way for him to relive the old days? The days before her? Cat's chest tightened. She couldn't even imagine what regulars on the boardwalk would think, watching him stroll away from her towards hot girls and proceed to flirt with them whilst she watched from the side-lines, putting on a brave face. She must've been a laughing stock.

Cat crossed her arms to hide the way her hands shook, but this didn't disguise the way her cheeks burned. Dwayne must've noticed, because he opened his mouth to talk again.

"Ooh, look!" she interrupted, pointing at one of the stalls "They have new Motley Crue shirts! I'm gonna go have a look."

Practically sprinting towards the stall, she breathed an audible sigh of relief once she reached it, willing the sudden swell nausea to disappear. Her hands continued to shake as she rifled through the shirts.

"Fuck," she hissed to herself as her eyes began to burn, wiping at them furiously with the sleeve of her jacket.

"If you want me to talk to him…" came Dwayne's voice from behind her and she jumped in fright.

"I can't drag you in to fight my battles every time I'm overly sensitive and get my feelings hurt," she sniffed, pretending to inspect one of the shirts closely.

"Cat, I meant it when I promised you I'd be a good brother," it was the most serious she'd heard him in a while "…and if I didn't think you were justified, I wouldn't be here."

Shifting from one foot to the other, she continued to avoid his gaze. One of her cousins back home had been a typical man eater, with a new guy on her arm every week – she often shared unwanted advice with Cat whenever they were together. At the time she'd disregarded it all, having no interest in that kind of thing. But one piece wouldn't leave her head now. "Guys hate insecure girls." If she showed Paul that she was hurt by something so supposedly meaningless, what was she if not ragingly insecure?

Next time she looked towards him, he was walking away, arm around the waist of the tourist. How could she be sure nothing actually did happen between now and the kill? The truth was, she couldn't. Trust was nothing in comparison to insecurity and paranoia. Dwayne's hand fell onto her shoulder, and she exhaled shakily.

"I'm…gonna head home" she spoke quietly, dropping the shirt back onto the rail.

"You don't have to-."

"It's pointless staying," she shook her head "Tell him I got tired or something."

Her mood was spoiled, and the night would feel like a decade if she chose to remain on the boardwalk, pretending nothing was wrong. All she'd be was terrible company. Dwayne surprised her then by pulling her into a hug.

"He loves you, Cat. He just doesn't think."

Hugging him back, she pretended not to notice the knowing looks on David and Marko's faces a few feet away.

* * *

"Babe? You here?"

Paul's voice echoed throughout the cave and Cat winced. Upon returning to the cave, she'd changed into the baggiest t-shirt and pyjama bottoms she could find before curling up amongst the blankets and pillows in the alcove with the first book she could find, doing her best to bleach the images of Paul with the tourist from her minds. Along with speculations of what might have happened once they were out of sight. This, along with the guilt for even doubting him, made her want to bang her head against the cave walls until she knocked herself out and literally couldn't worry anymore. He was her soulmate. He loved her…So why did it still hurt so much to see? Closing the book as quietly as she could, she rolled onto her side and feigned sleep. Footsteps and the jangle of accessories echoed throughout the cave, growing louder and louder until the alcove curtains rustled, signalling his entrance.

"Cat?" he whispered.

The mattress dipped behind her, and then were was a hand on her shoulder along with lips pressing insistently against her jawline. Had he been doing the same thing to the other girl just an hour earlier? Instead of melting against him, she tensed. Pretending to wake up, Cat slowly sat up, prompting Paul to sit back a little.

"Are you okay, babe?" he asked softly, brow furrowing and her heart sank – had Dwayne said something? Or maybe even Marko or David?

"I know Christmas n' shit gets you down," he supplied at her stunned look.

Oh. He thought the holidays were making her homesick.

"I'm fine," she shook her head "You shouldn't have come back."

"'Course I did," he snorted "The guys are headed back too, anyway. Boardwalk's dead tonight."

That was her cue to respond with "undead". Their own silly little inside joke. She didn't take it.

"You're not okay, Cat," his shoulders dropped and his eyes bore into her expectantly.

Posture sagging a little, she bit her lower lip and glanced around as though searching for some form of divine intervention. Things couldn't continue like this. How would she endure a literal eternity of watching her boyfriend pick up other girls? And wasn't she the one always preaching to him about communication in their relationship?

"Can we talk?" she asked eventually, voice weary.

Although she loved Paul with all her heart, if there was one thing she'd learned about him it was that he could sometimes be extremely defensive. The worst part was when he got like that, he had a bad habit of snapping and saying things he didn't mean – he knew just how to go straight for the jugular simply in order to "win", and when she was feeling this sensitive it was a big risk to take. A big blow-out was the last thing she wanted to deal with, and she knew she must treat this carefully. A series of emotions crossed his face – confusion, concern, and finally apprehension.

"…Sure, babe," he nodded, shifting to face her, cross-legged on the mattress.

Unable to look him in the eye, she picked at the blanket in her lap, eyes glued to her hands.

"Do…Do you have to feed like that?" the words came out quiet and strained, but she may as well have screamed them.

"What?" he gave a short laugh, as though it was a joke, but quickly became serious when she didn't laugh along "Wait…you're for real? That's what this is about?"

Outwardly, Cat didn't react, but inwardly dread and regret began to mix and settle in her chest.

"Oh _come on_ ," he groaned, exasperated "It doesn't mean a damn thing!"

"That doesn't make it nice to witness, Paul," she murmured.

"Then don't look!"

Her heart well and truly sank. She shouldn't have said a fucking thing.

"You really don't trust me?" his voice rose indignantly "This is one thing that you should never freakin' doubt me in! I don't give two fucks about those chicks! It's _you_ that I spend all my damn time with, _you_ that I let ride my bike, _you_ that I got a goddamn ring for, _your_ initial that I have tattooed on my fucking hand! You really don't think that means a thing?!"

"It's not about trust!" her own temper was rising now "It _hurts,_ Paul! To see you with all of these absolutely stunning girls who I can't hold a fucking candle to!"

With a scoff and an eye roll, Paul got up, shaking his head.

"How would you like it?" she questioned, shaking with both upset and anger "If I went out there and seduced guy after guy? Hmm?"

"Y'know what? Go right ahead, Cat," Paul snapped "That way they can deal with all your bullshit and not me."

Cat frozed, hurt streaking through her. But Paul wasn't finished.

"…If you even think any of 'em would give you the time of day."

That was the nail in the coffin. It was then that Cat reacted by doing something that horrified them both. She burst into tears. Any hint of anger seemed to leave Paul as he dropped to his knees beside her. The horror was plainly written across his face, as if he himself couldn't believe what he'd said, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as if trying to draw the words back in.

"Fuck, babe, I'm sorry! You know I didn't-."

Shaking her head furiously, Cat sprang to her feet and strode from the alcove, tearing her arm from his fingertips as he reached for it. Shoving back the curtains, she was met with the sight of her brothers. All three stood, stunned, in the middle of the cave as she failed to stem the flow of tears. Neither of them had heard them return over the noise of their own arguing. Paul's hand brushed her shoulder but she shrugged it off, quite literally flying from the cave.

* * *

It was Marko who found her, curled up on a jutting out ledge of the cliff face, eyes sore and swollen, but anger bubbling throughout her entire body.

"He's real cut up, Cat," he hovered in mid-air, drawing nearer so she'd hear him over the roar of the ocean.

Shifting to make room for him, Cat said nothing. She didn't want to hear it.

"How much did you hear?" she asked as he settled beside her, knees drawn to his chest.

"…All of it," he admitted sheepishly.

She heaved a sigh. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"You know he didn't mean it," he offered, eyes filled with sympathy.

"Everything people say has an ounce of truth."

"Bullshit," he countered simply "Not with Paul, at least. You guys might have… _whatever_ it is you have, but I've known the guy decades. He loves to talk out his ass."

Cat shook her head. He complained when she bottled up her problems and wouldn't tell him what was wrong, and when she _did_ tell him, he erupted like a damn volcano.

"I get that he's pissed," she softened just a little "And on some level I even get why…But he can't do that. Every time we have an argument, he thinks of the most hurtful, horrible thing he can possibly say and fucking throws it out there!"

"He's sorry."

"Well if he was careful, he wouldn't have to be," she crossed her arms "We can't communicate if every time there's a spat, he pulls this."

"Hey," Marko shrugged "There's a reason we call him the idiot."

At this comment, she couldn't help but relent and let slip a giggle.

"Look," her brother sighed "We were only out here looking for you to make sure you're okay, and now I have. Want me to leave you alone? But if I do, you gotta promise to come back before sunrise."

"Scout's honour."

With a nod, Marko shifted forward so that his legs dangled over the precipice.

"Oh, and Cat?"

She arched a brow at him.

"The thing you said – about those other chicks being hotter than you?"

Cat winced and her head fell. The insecure streak in her wasn't something she was proud of. The fact that Paul saw it from time to time was bad enough, but her brothers? It would be a while before she managed to drag herself back to the cave, and even longer before the mortification wore off. Biting the inside of her cheek, she waited for him to continue.

"Just so you know – back before it would've been weird, if you hadn't have been Paul's girl, I'd've been all over you."

A choked fit of laughter escaped her. Whatever she'd been expecting him to say, it certainly wasn't that.

"Before you drained me?" the mood lightened considerably as she joked.

"Yeah, well," he shrugged with a cheeky grin "I would've considered that part a shame."

Snorting and shaking her head, she sighed "Thanks, Marko…I think."

"One more piece of advice?"

"Hmm?"

"If you never give him a hard time, he's never gonna learn. There ain't nothin' worse than a pushover."

"Who's side are you on, Marko?" the corner of her mouth twisted upwards.

"The side of good…and long-term peace and quiet."

Cat thought that was fair enough.

 **A/N: Part 2 will be next. I hope you guys enjoyed!**


	7. Betrayal Part 2

**A/N: Fluff, fluff, fluff towards the end. I'm loving writing these two at the minute, I've already got quite a few more ideas for this story planned out.**

Paul's eyes were glued to her as she moved around the cave, getting ready for the night ahead. Upon returning to the cave the night before, she refused to spare him a glance. Instead, she chose to head to her brothers' 'bedroom' and settle down there for the day. She'd slept that way once or twice before, but nothing could beat her mass of pillows and blankets – and cuddling, which hanging upside down made impossible. However after the previous night, cuddling was the last thing on her mind. The weirdness of sleeping 'vamped out' was worth the look on Paul's face when he realised where she intended to sleep.

What truly surprised her was how amused her brothers were by her new attitude. Usually when she and Paul had a rare spat (although there had been none like this since after she forgave him for turning her), they'd stay well out of it and showed no kind of opinion or reaction, other than to see if she was okay. Normally she'd have returned to the cave, talked it out with Paul and, in all likelihood, ended the night with make-up sex and cuddling. But Marko's words had struck a chord, and if being a bitch would drum how serious she was into Paul, she was more than happy to do it – and enjoy it. Revenge was going to be sweet…She just had to avoid looking at him. He'd been an utter asshole the night before, but the kicked puppy expression on his face now could easily weaken her resolve if she looked at it for too long. Asshole or not, she loved him. Her intention wasn't to hurt him, but to teach him a lesson. Unfortunately, in this case, the two were mutually exclusive. In any other circumstance she wouldn't feel an ounce of guilt, but she knew from experience how hurtful what she was about to put him through was. It would be worth it in the end. She hoped.

Cat gave herself one final, slightly nervous, appraisal in the mirror. If her plan failed she'd end up completely mortified. Quickly, she banished these thoughts. Self-doubt was the only thing that could guarantee failure. Step one of her plan was the outfit. For it to work out, she had to look good – and just to drive her point home, she'd chosen pieces that Paul _loved_ her in. A black form-fitting velvet skirt, laddered stockings, high-heeled boots, and a Hanoi Rocks tank-top shirt that she'd cut the arms from, and a series of holes running up the back, revealing the lace bra she wore underneath both at the back and whenever her arms weren't at her sides. The look was polished by the addition of a lipstick the exact colour of blood.

"You're a cruel woman, Cat," David smirked when he caught sight of her "I don't think I've ever been so proud."

Cat snorted, pretending not to hear the furious whispers behind them as they began the walk out of the cave and up the stairs, towards the bikes.

"You gotta talk to her, man," Paul's voice hissed.

"Do I?" came Dwayne's, tone laced with amusement.

"Well she won't let _me_!"

"Can you blame her? You fucked up badly, bro. What kind of asshole tells his _girl_ that no guy's gonna want her?" Marko chimed in.

"No shit! But how do I fix it if she won't even look at me?"

"Guess it's not up to you," she could almost hear the shrug as Dwayne replied.

"I'm assuming you've got a plan," David muttered, drawing her attention from the others.

"You're smart," she replied "…Can I ride with you?"

"I'd be honoured."

* * *

One of her favourite side-effects of vampirism was the predatory feeling it gave her. Walking onto the boardwalk was like being a wolf amongst a flock of sheep. That, along with her underlying anger towards Paul, gave her all the ego boost she needed.

"Well, have fun boys," she sang once they were on the boardwalk, breaking away from the group to join the smattering of tourists on the outskirts of the crowd watching the band playing that night.

This was foreign territory to Cat, but what she lacked in experience she made up for with sheer determination, spurred on by Paul's eyes burning into her back. All it took was one song's worth of swaying her hips before she found her target. He couldn't have looked less like Paul if he'd tried, but he was hot. Perfect. It wouldn't be as effective otherwise. Tan, with a mop of messy brown hair falling into his eyes which followed her every movement, and the beginnings of a goatee. A cute bookworm type (the guy was wearing a knitted jumper in _California_ , for crying out loud), and judging by the look he was giving her, an easy meal.

Cat flashed him the smallest hint of a smile, and he replied with a cheeky, if not sheepish, grin at the fact that he'd been caught. He ruffled a hand through his hair, and continued to watch her. Trying her luck, she lifted a hand and waved her fingertips at him. The grin on his face widened. Deciding to take this as encouragement, Cat mouthed a "hi" in his direction before turning her attention back to the band. If all went well, he'd take the next step. The only thing that amused her more than how easily she'd caught his attention was that if she listened very carefully, she could _just_ hear Paul's voice, angrily ranting. She wasn't close enough to distinguish any words, but the general tone said it all. Cat smirked openly.

The next song wasn't even finished when her target approached her, a beer in each hand.

"Hello," he smiled shyly, speaking with a thick Italian accent "May I, uh, offer you a drink?"

The beers in his hands were unopened, so she smiled and nodded. He twisted the cap off of one and handed it to her.

"I'm Cat," she offered him her free hand, supressing an eye roll when he used it as leverage to pull her closer and press a kiss to each cheek.

Instead, she giggled and gave him her prettiest smile.

"Ah, Katerina?" he asked.

No, but it didn't matter and sounded nice, so there was no point in correcting him "And you?"

Paul's incensed shouting grew louder.

"Antonio," he clinked his bottle against hers and they both took a swig "You are a tourist here too?"

"Sure," she nodded, noticing how his eyes began to trail down her body, pausing at her chest, and then her legs.

Her skirt had ridden up a little, exposing the top of her stockings, a hint of the garters and a slither of bare thigh. Cat didn't fix it.

"I could tell," he leant in a little "Only an English girl could be so beautiful."

 _Or a Scottish one, idiot._

"And only an Italian man could be so charming," she responded, resting a hand on his arm for a moment.

Antonio threw his head back and laughed just a little too hard. The flirting continued for a few songs, and Paul's ranting became quieter and quieter and eventually seemed to die down. Cat couldn't bring herself to turn and see his face. Sure, Antonio was hot, but his intentions were obvious and it was boring pretending otherwise. Every joke she made was laughed at too hard, and everything he said was a blatant innuendo.

"Oh, Cat, you make me laugh," he sighed eventually.

"Perhaps you could make me purr," she teased, a perfectly feigned innocent look on her face as she batted her eyelashes at him.

Any reservation, whether genuine or not, seemed to leave him at that remark. He took a step closer, into her personal space, and it took every ounce of restraint she had not to step away. It felt wrong.

"Is that an invitation or a challenge?"

"Why not both?" she tilted her head, staring up at him daringly.

"I like you, Katerina."

He followed after her down the boardwalk like a stray dog, her brothers whistling after them mockingly.

* * *

Wrong, wrong, wrong. It all felt wrong. From the texture of his skin, to the amount of pressure his hands put on her. He was too short, too quiet and too clumsy. She supposed the literal decades of experience paid off for Paul, and made her lucky in return. The second they'd retreated under the darkness of the pier, Antonio had been on her, but the sweetness of victory was overshadowed by the fact that he wasn't Paul. He let out a short, surprised gasp the first time her teeth nipped at his throat, before releasing a breathy chuckle.

"Not so rough, Katerin-ah!"

The name had lost its charm. Her teeth sank in. Blood flooded her mouth whilst his hands switched from groping to clawing. Ignoring them, she brought her legs around his waist so he couldn't put any kind of distance between them. There was no chance of him fending her off. He was gone within minutes.

After it was done, Cat sat in the sand beside the corpse for at least ten minutes, struggling to regain her breath. She quickly filled his pockets with rocks and disposed of him in the ocean, where he'd be taken care of by the aquatic life. After that she took a few moments to rinse any trace of blood from herself. Following most kills, she usually felt euphoric. Now it just felt like she'd been the one who was drained. She could still feel his damn hands on her, grabbing at her ass. She wanted Paul. He knew how to touch her, what to say. He cared, and when they were together he had her in mind just as much as himself, if not more at times. To go from that to simply being a pretty face and a body to use felt…empty. Sickening. Was this how it was for him? Suddenly she understood how stunned he'd been at her thinking it might mean anything at all. But still, it couldn't continue. Meaningless or not, it was terrible to witness. Cat dearly hoped her point had been made. She didn't want to have to go out there and do it all over again, but she would as many times as it took for him to truly admit she had a point. For him to apologise – genuinely, too, not just to make the silent treatment end.

"Cat?"

She jumped when her name rang out, breaking through her thoughts. Turning her head to the right, she saw Paul's silhouette in the darkness. He trudged through the sand and fell into the space to her right.

"…I wanted to make sure you were okay," he murmured awkwardly.

"How did that feel?" she asked softly, no hint of malice in her voice.

"I really…really… _really_ fuckin' hated it," he admitted quietly "…And that's what it was like for you? Every time?"

"You're not as insecure as me."

He sniffed and tentatively raised a hand to her shoulder. When she didn't shrug him off or squirm away, he wrapped him arm around her properly, pulling her closer. Cat laid her head against his chest, hating how awkward things suddenly felt between them.

"I'm so sorry, babe," Cat had never heard him sound so guilty "I didn't realise how hard it was to watch."

Before she could reply, he took a breath in as though steeling himself, and continued.

"And I shouldn't have said any of that shit last night. I'm an asshole. Cat, I swear there's nobody's bullshit I'd _rather_ listen to."

She snorted, but he remained undeterred.

"And we both know you could have any idiot on this boardwalk, and I ain't ever gonna get over how damn lucky I am that I get to be that idiot, instead of somebody who probably wouldn't say horrible shit – horrible _lies_ – whenever they get pissed, or somebody educated, or somebody who could give you a proper home-."

Cat had heard enough. In a moment she was straddling is lap, his face I her hands as she pressed her lips against his. He pulled her tightly against him as they kissed, hands roaming across her back, her thighs, moving up to tangle in her hair, erasing all memory of Antonio's touch.

"I love you," he murmured when they parted, staring deeply into her eyes, their foreheads touching "Not just because you're hot. You laugh at my jokes, you're funny, we can talk for hours about jack shit and never get bored…No matter what bullshit I come out with, this - what I'm saying right now - is true. You're the only chick I'm interested in, don't ever doubt that, okay?"

Holding back tears was becoming a trial for Cat at that point. Paul very rarely talked about his emotions this deeply, or openly. She didn't know if it was the security of the utter darkness that enveloped them, or the seriousness of the situation that had prompted it, but she was touched.

"I love you too," she breathed "No more seductions?"

"Not unless it's you I'm seducing," he tilted his head up to give her a peck.

"You already did," she laughed quietly, remaining where she was and relishing in their close proximity.

"That doesn't mean I'll ever stop. Gotta make it worth your while," he smirked quietly before his posture stiffened for a moment "…And Cat? Promise me somethin'?"

"Hmm?"

"Never ignore me…or make me sleep alone again?"

The pure vulnerability and hesitation that seemed to envelope him hit her like a bus. Cat hugged him tightly, burying her face in his neck "I promise."


	8. Alternate Ending Part 1

**A/N: Back when I wrote The Good, the Bad, and the Undead, my other idea for a possible ending was to have Cat leave Santa Carla with her friends as planned and then return a while later for a big dramatic reunion...but in the end I couldn't see the boys risking that. It just wasn't logical [there's too big of a chance that she might not return. Even if she did, it'd be after letting the people back home know about the Boys, so if she were then to suddenly go missing after going back to them it'd lead straight to them, should it be followed up]...and the version I went with had more drama. So this is the alternate ending [part 1], because I couldn't get ideas for scenes from it out of my head, started writing some down and figured I may as well make it coherent and post it. In this version of events, she still has no clue that they're vampires.**

 **I also looked up what time the sun set in early January this year in the USA, and apparently it was 4:50pm so unless it was drastically different in the 80s, it's totally possible for Paul to have been roaming around by 5pm, as he is in this.**

"You're a damn idiot, you know?"

Paul didn't turn around at David's words, digging through a pile of t-shirts in search of the cleanest one "Yup."

His brother sighed, stepping closer and lowering his voice "It's not too late. Tell 'em all we're throwing them a last minute going away bash. Give Cat the bottle, we'll take her friends away and handle them ourselves. I mean sure, it won't be ideal, but-."

"Traumatise her?" Paul snorted "And then what? Say 'hey babe, your friends are dead and you can never see your family again, but it ain't all bad, you're immortal and turns out we're meant for each other!'? How'd you see that one working out? 'Cause personally, I don't."

Somewhere in the bottom of the pile was a white Skid Row shirt that looked like it had never even been worn, despite the sleeves being torn off. Yanking it out, Paul pulled it over his head.

"She might never come back, Paul," the words weren't said to hurt him, but it didn't mean a streak of pain didn't fly through his chest at them "I don't doubt she feels the bond, but once she's back home? With all that distance it, without her knowing the truth, it might be all too easy for her to convince herself she just got caught up in the moment."

"I'm not the only one who's gonna miss her," Paul muttered, if only to avoid confronting David's point.

"'Course not, but we can all live with it a hell of a lot easier than you'll be able to."

"I've got no choice, man," Paul turned with a shrug, barely able to hide his surprise at the genuine concern on David's face.

"But you do!" His brother insisted "That's what I'm trying to tell you!"

"But I _don't_!" He groaned "I might not be a 'relationship' sorta guy, but I do know that it isn't exactly ideal to start one off by traumatising your girl! If she's gonna be one of us, she's gotta come back willingly. Then we'll take it from there."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then I'll just have to live with it."

"Don't think it'll be that simple, bro," Marko spoke up, gnawing on the corner of his lip.

Dwayne was the only one who didn't seem to openly oppose his decision, choosing to maintain a steady silence on the matter. Paul was grateful for it.

"It's gonna have to be. I'll see you guys later," Paul grabbed his jacket, and left the cave without another word.

If he stayed much longer, he knew they'd probably convince him to change his mind. He was clinging onto his resolve to do the "right" thing for once by the skin of his goddamn teeth as it was.

* * *

Cat spent the morning pouring all of her energy into getting ready, if just so that she could avoid thinking about anything else. She applied her makeup meticulously - although she wasn't sure why, for she knew she'd have cried it off before the night was over. After that she painstakingly curled her hair, only to decide she hated the finished product and brushed it all out, leaving her dark locks in messy waves. Finally she tried on no less than three outfits before settling on a plain black tank top, a pair of jeans so badly torn that they showed more skin than they covered, and a deep green plaid shirt tied around her waist.

They'd established the previous night that her final few hours in Santa Carla would be spent alone with Paul, and so she'd said her goodbyes then.

"Tragedy ain't my genre," David had snorted through a cigarette the night before, with the rest of the boys nodding in agreement, varying degrees of sympathy written across all of their faces.

They'd surprised her by giving her a hug each - with various degrees of "macho"-ness - and she'd only been able to nod dumbly when David mumbled in her ear "Come back, you hear?", with a pointed look following to prove just how serious he was.

With her flight out being late at night, Paul had promised to show up at the hotel no later than six pm. It gave them a decent amount of time together before he'd have to give her a ride to the airport (which was only possible because Sophie had offered to take her case on the bus with her, much to Bryana's disapproval) but Cat had a feeling that any length of time would feel inadequate, and knew it would pass far too quickly for her liking. Her heart couldn't help but sink when she heard the bike pull up outside before the engine was killed, knowing it marked the beginning of the end. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath in to dispel the lump in her throat. It was five - he was early. Probably for the first time since she'd known him.

"I'll, uh, see you guys on the plane then," she said her goodbyes to Bryana and Sophie, her voice coming out much smaller than she would've liked.

"Your stuff will be safe with me," Sophie gave her a small sympathetic smile.

Even Bryana's eye-roll seemed more half-hearted than usual. Well, that or Cat couldn't find it in her to care as much as she usually might. Pausing at the glass doors, she took another moment to steel herself before stepping out into the cool evening air.

Paul looked uncharacteristically nervous, changing his stance every few moments as he fiddled with the cuffs of his jacket, waiting a few feet down the beach next to his bike.

"Good evening," she attempted to greet him in a sing-song voice, but it came out strained.

Her resolve to feign cheeriness for the night was already crumbling. It seemed Paul was in the same boat, though, his smile forced as he leaned down a little to hug her in greeting as she kissed his cheek.

"Hey babe," he murmured "Wanna go get dinner?"

"I, uh...Don't think I could eat," she admitted, unable to stand the idea of going the entire night with their dread being the elephant in the room.

Paul's shoulders slumped in visible relief that she'd broached the subject and he breathed a laugh "Me either. What d'you wanna do?"

In truth, Cat didn't want to spend what she knew was very likely to be their last few hours together sitting in an awkward, distracted silence whilst trying to watch a movie, or on the Boardwalk attractions pretending to have a good time. She wanted to make the most of what time they had left together.

"We could find somewhere quiet to just...sit and talk?"

"Cave? Guys'll be gone all night."

Cat responded with an enthusiastic nod - a great deal of her sadness the previous night had been leaving the cave itself, fully knowing she might never see it again. It was strange, but the derelict former hotel felt more like home to her than the apartment she'd spent four months in so far at university. The flatmates were certainly more favourable.

She did her best to soak in what would be her last fun ride with Paul - the next would be the one to the airport, which she knew she'd find a lot less enjoyable. Hugging her arms tight around his waist, she pressed the side of her face against his back and allowed her eyes to close, relishing in the flying feeling, the roar of the bike, and the spikes of adrenaline that shot through her every time she felt a tree zip by only inches from them. It was funny, the first time she'd taken this ride she'd been terrified. Not two full weeks later she somehow implicitly trusted him with her life. For somebody who the entire concept of trust made rather uncomfortable outside of her mum and Jamie, the whole thing bewildered and, frankly, freaked her the hell out. Why did it have to happen with somebody who she had so little time with?

When they got to the cave, and after they lit the candles, he took her twice, each time in a completely different way. The first could only be described as bruising - not that she didn't enjoy it - as though the only way he could reassure himself that she was still there was to grip her tightly and refuse to let go. Like he had to leave his mark physically to prove to himself that he'd left one emotionally. Cat was grateful for it. The night had started out so dourly that to be swept off her feet, and left only able to cling to him and try to keep up, was a welcome distraction.

The second time was the antithesis of the first. Almost as if he'd proven what he had to to himself, and now he had to prove something to her. They did their best to commit every inch of each other to memory, savouring every touch, kiss, gasp, and moan.

For Paul, it was almost a point of pride - to have the girl who'd been unable to look him in the eye without blushing not two weeks ago now writhing shamelessly in his lap. What ruined it all was her impending departure, looming in the back of his mind like a shadow. The rarely used part of himself - the self-control that he was clinging onto with all of his might - was wavering, his teeth even grazing the side of her throat a handful of times before he managed to drop his forehead to her shoulder and stop himself from turning her then and there, risks and consequences be damned. He couldn't. The time for that had well and truly passed. He'd signed himself up for this moment by not turning her a few nights ago. Hell, even the night before. Now all he could do was hope she'd come back.

Eventually they found themselves tangled in the sheets on the mattress in the alcove, caught somewhere between tiredness and dread. The tape in the boombox had long since stopped, but neither of them had the heart to move in order to change it.

Paul gave an entirely uncharacteristic, dejected sigh as he entwined their fingers and then lifted her arm up, squinting at her watch to figure out how long they had until they had to leave - two hours at most, if they pushed it, which they undoubtedly would. Cat watched silently as he then brought one of his wristbands up, past his wrist, over their joint grasp, and then onto her own. Not quite sure what to say - and unable to trust herself not to get emotional if she tried - she simply bit her lip.

"Just somethin' to remember me by," he defended needlessly, discomfort in serious situations shining through.

"Like I could forget," she snorted before sighing "I did have a similar idea, though."

With her free hand she stretched awkwardly, groping blindly around the floor until she eventually found her jeans, digging her fingertips into the pocket. She couldn't pretend she wasn't relieved at the bright, infectious grin that spread across his face when she presented him with his own memento - a small circular keyring, adorned with a Scottish flag.

"I got it when I was at the Wallace Monument when I was a kid. Always thought it brought me luck. Brought it into all of my exams, any time I had to do any form of public speaking, any time I went to a gig where I was determined for a band member to fall hopelessly in love with me."

"Did it work?" He snickered.

"Well two out of three isn't bad," she grinned "It's dumb but-."

"It's goin' on my jacket," he interrupted, rubbing his thumb over the flag.

"I'm honoured."

"Should be. Not just anything gets that privilege," he shrugged, pulling her tighter to him.

"I couldn't think of anything else to give you," she admitted.

"I can."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, fully expecting some kind of dirty joke.

Instead, Paul reached to the bundle of clothes on his side of the mattress, a comically determined look on his face, before his hand came back up, this time brandishing her underwear. Cat breathed a laugh. Romance may have been far from her realm of interests before she'd arrived in Santa Carla, but she'd always been the type to wear pretty underwear for her own benefit, and boy was she grateful for that now. The particular pair she'd chosen that night were her favourite - delicate black lace, trimmed with a white version of the same material.

"Are you serious?" She giggled, burying her face in his neck if only so that he couldn't see her blush.

"As a heart attack."

"What, you gonna pin those on your jacket too?"

"Don't tempt me!"

She wouldn't put it past him.

"You're welcome to them, but I don't relish the idea of going commando with all those holes in my jeans."

"I'll give you a pair of mine."

"Your lacy underwear?"

"My boxers, smartass."

"Just make sure they're actually yours, please,."

"You think I'd risk you catching whatever Marko has?" He joked.

"Ah, the gift that keeps on giving," she removed her face from his neck to smirk up at him.

With exaggerated precision, he folded the underwear with one hand, deposited them and the keyring into the inner pocket of his jacket, and shoved it off of the mattress before he settled back down.

"What about you, babe? Any _special requests_?" He accentuated the final two words with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

"Mmf," she sighed, huddling closer "Find a way for us to just stay like this forever, ideally."

When her words were met with silence, she winced and looked up at him, ready to apologise for darkening the mood. Paul's expression, however, was thoughtful.

"You okay?"

The look he gave her told her what he thought of that question. A few moments passed, and Cat didn't notice how quiet she'd gone until Paul spoke up again a while later.

"What is it?"

"Hmm?"

Her eyes had drifted closed during the lull in conversation, caught between her desire to soak in the moment and her own overactive brain.

"You wanna say something, but you're scared you'll offend me."

Stiffening, she said nothing. How did he know her so damned well? It was unnerving, really. She'd always gotten by with a firm reliance on how good she was at hiding how she felt. She kept her mouth shut, she avoided conflict, and life stayed easy. It was probably how she'd ended up in the shit-show that was her "friendship" with Bryana.

"C'mon, Cat. I won't be mad," he reassured, fingers trailing softly up and down her back.

"I know there's something you aren't telling me," she kept her eyes closed, making it easier to talk "Something all of you aren't telling me. I don't know what it is, but I know it's something."

His movements stilled for a split second before resuming, his head turning so that his jaw rested on her head.

"I've never had a good bullshit radar - it's how Jamie and I got so close. I always try to see the best in people, and it gets me in shit, so eventually he adopted the role of my bullshit radar. But...he's not here, so I have to go by my own judgement…"

"And what's it telling you?" He asked quietly.

"That whatever you're keeping from me is more to do with you than me," she murmured.

"S'not just my secret to tell," he admitted after some hesitation "If it was, you'd know. It's nothin' personal at all, you not knowing."

Cat felt a rush of validation at his response - the first admittance she'd received, after so many weird silences or sidestepped questions. Unsure what to say, she simply nodded. The longer she went without responding, the more uncomfortable he seemed to become.

"I just had to hear you say it," she said softly.

If it had been personal, or anything especially horrendous, he wouldn't have admitted any secret-keeping in the first place.

"Why?"

"If I didn't, I'd convince myself it was something...completely nefarious and personal. That...I dunno, you all had some kind of weird bet on to see how long it'd take you to bed the tourist. Something shitty like that."

"You actually think I'd do that? To you?" There was an edge to his voice now.

"No, not at all," she said honestly "But it doesn't mean I wouldn't convince myself of that when I got home."

"How come?" He seemed placated, but confused.

"It'd make being separated easier, if I could pretend it all hadn't meant anything…" there was a lump in her throat now, and keeping her eyes shut became more about masking the way they burned than discomfort "But I don't want to do that. It's not meant to be easy."

"Don't you dare get that shit in your head, Cat. I'm serious. You start thinking like that, you won't come back."

"It'll be at least five months before I can - if I even can," she bit her lip as they broached the topic she'd been both avoiding and overthinking for the last week "A lot can happen in five months."

"Nothing big enough to change the fact that I want you to come back."

"You say that now," she sighed "But what happens if I come back five months from now and you've moved on? It wouldn't be unreasonable of you. Then I'm the bloody idiot standing on the beach, watching you with some other girl."

"Who I'd get rid of the second I noticed you standin' there," he snorted as though it were obvious "Those are just... _chicks_. The second I'm finished, they're gone - I don't give two shits about 'em. They're something to pass the time when I've got nothing better to do. You're not. You know that."

"I do," she assured him honestly.

The logical side of her brain - which often spoke in her brother's stern voice - had been at war with the louder side, the side which has trusted him since she'd gotten to know him, and it had long since lost. If anything, his confirmation that he wanted her to return had cemented it. After all, if the cynical part of her had been right, wouldn't tonight have been the perfect time to cut ties?

The spent the rest of the time they had left talking quietly about whatever topics drifted into their heads - what Paul would do after she left (much of the same of what he'd done when she'd been there), and what she'd do after she got home (studying, trying to earn money, and doing her best to put on a brave face) and the like.

When the time did come for them to leave and begin the journey to the airport, it was like a funeral procession. They dressed slowly, Cat keeping her head down to try to hide the way her eyes had begun to tear up, and in silence, knowing any attempt at conversation would be half-hearted at best, and painful at worst. Probably both.

Paul drove as slowly as he could without making her late - certainly the slowest she'd ever seen him go on his bike - but it still seemed to be over in the blink of an eye. She'd have to run through the airport to make her flight if they didn't rush their goodbyes, but that didn't offer her nearly as much incentive to do such a thing. After everything, she refused to have what could be their last interaction with a "well it's been fun, bye!"

What made it worse was seeing him so damn solemn. On Paul, anything less than amused seemed downright unnatural. They stood opposite each other, neither quite sure of what to say and both feeling incredibly awkward for it. At this point, Cat could no longer fight the tears, and shook her head as they began to spill. There was an ache in her chest so bad that she felt hollow.

"This fucking sucks," she sniffed, wiping furiously at her eyes with the back of her arm.

With the ice broken, Paul pulled her into a bone-crushing hug that literally lifted her off of her feet, mumbling into her hair as she clung tightly back "Go back, do what you gotta do, then as soon as you can you come back to me, you hear? You _come home_. Even if you borrow the money to get here, I'll help you repay it."

She'd expected earnestness, but the full extent of it stunned her.

"I love you."

She'd said it without fully meaning to, but that didn't mean she meant it any less. The prospect of leaving without telling him was unbearable. She felt more than heard him chuckle.

"I love you too, babe."

He kissed her once, deeply, and then all too soon he was backing up, jaw clenched "Now go, before I don't fucking let you."

Squeezing her hand hard, he let go and took another step back. Through her tears, Cat gave him one last hard look, knowing there was nothing left to be said, but not wanting to leave. Every inch of her was screaming for her to say "fuck it" and remain. But she couldn't. And so, with feet like lead, she took her own step back, turned, and began to speed-walk away with her arms hugged tightly to herself. She had to force herself not to look back, even after she'd rounded multiple corners and knew he'd be well out of view.

Sophie was waiting in the jetway for her, having checked in both of their suitcases, and with Cat's smaller hand luggage bag inside her own. She looked visibly stunned when she caught side of her, looking like she might speak for a moment before seeming to think better of it and pulling out Cat's tote to hand to her.

It was only once she was on the plane, with her bag stored overhead and her seat-belt buckled, that Cat allowed herself to quietly and completely fall apart.

 **A/N: Writing angst about a character with 20 mins of screen-time and like five minor lines is hard, dammit...but that sums up writing Lost Boys fanfic. Part 2 = the reunion, and that's about as far as I'm gonna take this little AU. Otherwise I'd be rewriting the entire last half of the story, which is just a bit much - and like I said, I'm mostly writing this little section for fun/to get it out of my system.**


	9. Alternate Ending Part 2

**A/N: This was only going to be two parts, but it works better if I cut it up into three. Picking up around 5 months later.**

Cat stirred from the pleasant doze she'd fallen into when her bedroom door creaked open.

"What are you doing here?" She blinked tiredly, sitting up as Jamie entered the room.

"You're not the only one who has a bedroom here," he shrugged "Mum wanted a family night. Been a while since it was all three of us."

Making a noise of agreement, she watched suspiciously as he walked deliberately across the room and made a great show of peering at the corkboard on the wall above her desk, on which was pinned a collage of photos, concert tickets, mementos and to-do lists.

"Of course, with the way you've been lately, it's more like four of us," he continued lightly "Which one is he, then?"

"Who?"

"You know who. Your American."

Cat sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. The conversation was bound to happen eventually, but that didn't mean she had to be happy about it. She'd left the photo of she and Paul together on the Big Dipper back in Santa Carla with the Lost Boys - only after Sophie had confessed to getting a few candid shots of all of them on the Boardwalk. Photography students were handy to be friends with, it seemed. The handful that she'd gotten were mailed to Cat not long after they got back to the UK - a final apology for the shit-show their friendship had ended in, she suspected.

The one she'd pinned up featured her with all of the Lost Boys. She remembered the moment well - Paul had just told a completely tasteless joke, standing with a proud grin on his face while she looked up at him, joy shining in her eyes but a hand clamped over her mouth. The others appeared to be caught between varying degrees of exasperation and amusement, Marko snickering through an attempt to light a cigarette, Dwayne with his head tilted back in laughter, and David with his signature smirk.

There were others - more cutesy ones of she and Paul - but she kept them secreted away in a desk drawer. The only one she'd chosen for display was the one that made her nostalgic for Santa Carla, and not the ones that just made her chest ache.

"The blond one," she spoke eventually, sliding from the bed and wincing at how her limbs ached.

Her cousin's kid was six, and refused to grasp the concept that he was becoming too heavy for her to swing him around like she did when he was a toddler.

"Oh, that narrows it down," he shot back.

Moving to stand beside her brother, she leaned forward and tapped the photograph "Him."

Jamie didn't look delighted, but nor did he look completely disapproving. That was as close to a victory as she suspected she'd get.

"Mum's worried about you."

"She's behind this then, is she?" Her fingers wandered to the wristband that had been tied at her wrist ever since she left Santa Carla, gently tugging at it.

"Think of it as a joint effort," he replied drily.

"It's been five months. What brings this on?"

"The very fact that it's been five months, Catriona," he pulled the chair at her desk out and sat down, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together "You should've seen the bloody state you were in when you came home. You looked traumatised! We were too scared to say anything in case we made it worse. Assumed you'd go back to uni, finish up the year and come back good as new."

"It's not that simple," she muttered defensively, perching opposite him on the edge of her bed.

"Well we know that now, don't we? How many hours have you worked this week?"

Opening her mouth to argue, she was quickly interrupted. Apparently he didn't require an answer to continue.

"And how many nights have you spent babysitting? You just got home, right?"

"My student accommodation screwed me out of my deposit," she argued, exasperated "That's two hundred and fifty bloody pounds, J - _And_ I couldn't get a job after the new year, because the only shit left would've had me walking home, alone, in the middle of the night, through the roughest part of the city. I need to make up for lost time. It doesn't help that-"

She managed to stop herself just short of potentially saying too much, but he caught it.

"Go on."

The look on his face and the tone of his voice told her that she wasn't getting out of this discussion, so instead she deflated, uncrossing her arms and looking him in the eye for the first time.

"When we last went, we all split the cost, and it was winter. It was as cheap as it got. Now? Now it's summer. Prices have skyrocketed, and it's down to me to cover all of the cost."

"So you _are_ doing all of this to go back."

"You knew that."

"I did," he shrugged "But I don't know how clever it is."

A sinking feeling spread throughout her chest, knowing he was about to say a lot of things that she doubted she wanted to hear. Potentially very apt things, too. Reluctantly, she gestured for him to continue.

"Catriona, you're working your arse off to get back to a guy you knew for _two weeks_. He hasn't called-"

"-He hasn't got a phone."

"He hasn't written-"

"I wouldn't be able to respond. His living situation is...complicated."

She wasn't about to go and make things worse by telling her brother they all lived in a cave. That would be the final straw.

"That's not exactly reassuring."

"And anyway," she argued "He's not really the type to sit down and pen a big long, ridiculous love letter."

"My point of knowing him two weeks still stands."

He didn't need to remind her of that. However, that was also the point that she could least argue against. What part of it wasn't true?

"That doesn't matter," Cat echoed the argument Paul had made to her so many times.

At this, Jamie scoffed and looked at her like she was an idiot - and could she really blame him? In that moment she felt like one. But then she did what she always did when doubt began to seep in. She went over the goodbye at the airport. How distraught they'd both been, and how every fibre of her being had been screaming at her to stay - and how every fibre of _his_ seemed to want to make her stay.

"Listen," she forced herself to stay calm and level-headed "I know how it sounds. I do. But when have you ever known me to be a lovesick idiot when it comes to guys? Does my behaviour now not show that it must be something special for me to be like this over him?"

"That or he's a brilliant con-artist," he said grimly, but she caught the flicker of doubt in his eyes "That's just it. You're the furthest thing you could get from the town bicycle. I'd expect this sort of thing from one of our cousins, but not you. You're too smart to lose your head over a...a holiday fling."

"Because that's not what it was!" She groaned "You didn't see him when he dropped me off at the airport! Nobody is that good at bullshitting. He even told me to come back as soon as I could, Jamie. Why say that if he didn't mean it? Whatever it is that I'm feeling, I know he does too."

Jamie opened his mouth to argue, but this time it was Cat's turn to seize control of the discussion - she was determined to have her say and make her point.

"And it's not just him I miss! It's all of them. It's Santa Carla. I feel homesick for a place I spent two weeks in. It became my home away from home. I...I feel like I found the people I'm supposed to be around - the place I'm meant to be," with a deep sigh, she continued "Remember I was so excited to go to uni, to get away from Sophie and Bryana's bullshit, to make a new home for myself somewhere brand new?"

Begrudgingly, he nodded.

"I didn't. I found a city that drains me, and sure, the people might have been better, but they were people who I can go to if...if I wanted to get drunk, or if I'd forgotten to make a note of that week's homework. Nothing special. In the end, I decided the whole thing of finding a place where you belong, and this amazing group of people who you belong _with,_ was bullshit. That you just have to grow up and make do with what you end up with - and then I went _there_ and I met _them_ \- I met _Paul_ \- only for it all to be taken away. Now all I can do is stay busy so the whole thing doesn't drive me mad, and so I can make enough money to get back before it's too late."

As she went on, she became less and less collected, everything she'd been bottling up for months on end spilling forth, and it was only when her voice sounded dangerously close to cracking that Jamie stopped her, moving to sit beside her and pulling her into a one armed hug.

"Okay," he sighed " _Okay_. I wasn't trying to get you upset."

"I know," she sniffed, shaking her head.

"I knew there'd be a boy at some point," he said, tone light "Just never expected a group of Motley Crue rejects."

Cat laughed at that, relieved by the brightening mood.

"You'd have probably liked them...had both sides made the effort."

Of course, had both sides decided to be antagonistic it would probably have resulted in World War 3, but she didn't need to tell him that.

"I suppose we'll find out then, won't we?"

Cat went still, not sure what to make of the words as they sank in.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, don't worry," he shrugged casually, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out an envelope "I'm only coming along for the first week. Just to make sure you'll be okay all summer."

It would've taken a deaf, dumb and blind person to not realise what her brother was getting at, but it still took Cat a good few moments of staring at contents of the envelope before she allowed herself to believe they were real and the whole thing wasn't just some kind of sleep-deprived hallucination.

"Plane tickets?" she breathed, rubbing her thumb over the block capitals reading 'LOS ANGELES' "I...I don't... _Jamie_...How did you get the money?!"

"Leaned on dad, just a little," he smirked "If you'd stop being so bloody moral you'd be benefitting from it too - you just need to know how to guilt him. How d'you think I got my car? May as well make the bastard good for something."

Jamie laughed openly at her as she continued to stare at the tickets, dumbfounded. She was going back. It was real. She was going to see Paul again.

* * *

Cat had been walking on air ever since she found out she'd be returning to Santa Carla, but the moment their bus drove into town she was filled with nerves. Her brain jumped between each worst case scenario, from the Lost Boys no longer being in around, to whatever bond she had with Paul not being the same as it had been before. Only when she'd exhausted the list of more plausible negative scenarios, did she move onto more outlandish ones - like some kind of motorcycle accident induced amnesia having wiped all memory of her from his brain. She hadn't even had time to worry about the idea that Jamie might not approve of them until she saw the stony look on her brother's face - the one he always used to mask what he was thinking. Or when he was preparing himself for a fight.

Their hotel was the very same one she'd stayed at with Sophie and Bryana - their room was even similar, with two twin beds and sliding glass doors that led out to the beach.

"Well I'll be sleeping with a knife by the bed," Jamie commented, eyeing the sliding doors with bemusement.

"What? Why?" Cat laughed, doing her best to freshen up before they'd go hunting for the Lost Boys.

She'd noticed just how much hotter the weather was this time round the moment she'd stepped off of the plane. Her plan had been to stick to modest clothing as best she could while her brother was still here, out of both respect and in hopes that it would help keep Paul on his best behaviour (if their reunion went well, that was), but she couldn't face the idea of covering up in such heat - especially unused to it as she was. Throwing her hair up into a messy ponytail, she'd ended up opting for a Black Sabbath tank top and an old pair of jeans she'd long ago cut into a pair of shorts. Nothing too racy, but she wasn't exactly running a risk of heatstroke either. She was pleased with the overall result, though - she looked good, but she didn't look like she'd tried too hard, either.

"We're in the murder capital of the world - yes, I noticed the sign - and those doors are just asking somebody to break in."

"You're meant to be a Scot," she teased, plaiting her hair "What would our ancestors say if they could see you now? Frightened by graffiti and Americans."

"I'm _not_ frightened. In any case, they'd be proud that I'm smart enough to be prepared."

"No need. Not if all goes well with the Lost Boys tonight."

"Oh?"

"People don't fuck with them."

Jamie's brow furrowed in worry - over the idea of her hanging out with such people, or the fact that they were now potentially formidable opponents in his mind, she wasn't sure.

"They're not assholes. Well, okay, they are, but they're _our_ kind of assholes," she replied to his look.

"I'll be the judge of that," he muttered, but there was a note of teasing to his tone.

"Sooner rather than later," she grimaced, chest tight with nerves "Hopefully we aren't about to reenact that one scene from _Grease_."

"Well, worst case scenario, I break his jaw."

Cat scoffed, the idea making her more than a little uncomfortable. She didn't want to see her brother attempt to take on all four Lost Boys. No matter how much he trained back home, and how much confidence he had in his fighting abilities, she couldn't see such a scenario ending well...and even if Paul had magically changed over the last five months and ended up being a total douchebag to her that night, she still didn't want to see him hurt. In such a scenario she'd rather just leave. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

After an hour on the Boardwalk with no sign of their quarry, Cat was jumping at the sound of every engine, male holler or flash of blond hair. Each time she spun around or craned her neck at what she thought might be them, the disappointment on her face grew when she was proven wrong.

By the time two hours had passed, she'd begun to give herself a mental pep-talk. Just because it looked like she wasn't going to find them on the first night, that didn't mean she wouldn't find them at all. Even if they were no longer there at all, she'd still get a vacation with her brother, courtesy of their father. At least she was back in Santa Carla, if not back with the people who she'd come back to be _with_. But the consolations felt empty even as she tried to fill her head with them.

Jamie caught the defeated look on her face, looking around them one last time before sighing and clapping a hand on her shoulder "Come on. We'll get a drink or two and keep looking after."

Responding with a tight-lipped smile, Cat patted the hand on her shoulder and turned, ready to lead him to the nearest bar...only to be met with a familiar face.

"Took you long enough," there stood David, a six pack of beer dangling from each hand and a smirk on his face.

At first she didn't dare believe he was real, simply staring at him with eyes the size of saucepans, an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak sounding from somewhere in the back of her throat. The smirk turned into an amused grin, as the Lost Boy gave her brother a cursory once-over before turning back to Cat, opening his mouth to make an undoubtedly smartass comment. Before he could, however, it was her turn to surprise him. Leaping forward, she pulled the Lost Boy into a hug as best she could (a feat in itself, considering the top of her head was only just barely level with his shoulders), a face-splitting grin covering her face both at the fact that she'd finally found them - because where David was, the rest were sure to be nearby - and at David's positive reaction to her being there. He was the last one who'd pretend to be happy to see her if it wasn't definitely a good thing.

Recovering from his surprise quickly, David patted her on the back as best he could with a chuckle. Cat took a few steps backwards, flushing as she realised just how enthusiastic her reaction had been.

"We've been looking for you for hours," she explained, running a hand through her hair "I was starting to get worried."

"Oh ye of little faith," he smirked before turning his attention fully to her brother "Who's your friend?"

"My brother, actually. You don't see the family resemblance?" she raised an eyebrow teasingly "Jamie, this is David. Unofficial shot-caller of the Lost Boys. David, this is Jamie, my chaperone. For the next two weeks, in any case."

They shook hands tentatively, both blatantly scoping the other out as David muttered a "Welcome to Santa Carla." in response to Jamie's nod before turning back to Cat "You're only here two weeks?"

"Not quite," she couldn't help but beam at the prospect of spending her whole summer in Santa Carla, now that she knew it had a high likelihood of happening "But it'd be easier if I just explained it to all of you - is, uh...Is everybody here?"

" _Everybody_ , huh?" David shot down her attempt to play it cool, giving her a knowing look "Who knew you'd be so excited to see Dwayne and Marko again."

" _David_ ," she groaned at his teasing, although secretly pleased at how easily they'd fallen back into their old ways "Is Paul here?"

"C'mon," he laughed, handing her one of the six packs before nodding in the direction of the beach as he began to lead the way "If he finds out I waited this long to bring you to him he'll kick my ass. Well, he'll _try,_ at least."

Jamie had watched the exchange carefully, his expression unreadable, but as they began to follow David down the Boardwalk steps and onto the beach, she noticed his shoulders relax and drop a little. It was definitely a good sign, which only served to make her all the more excited. Cat knew that her own demeanour had changed drastically since running into David, and subsequently having all of her worries dispelled. Beforehand her legs had felt like lead, as though her pessimistic thoughts had been literally weighing them down, but now? Now she felt like she was walking on air. Hell, it practically took all of her willpower to stop herself from _dancing_ down the beach, and the grin on her face was so goofy she was relieved that David was walking in front of her and therefore unable to see it. As they walked down the beach, only one thing ran through her mind. She was finally going to see him again.

 **A/N: Now in my final semester ever of university, hence the sudden and unintentional break. I wanted to get this posted before the semester really heats up and I have to focus on classes. Also, over the holidays I got a sudden influx of favourites/follows etc. so thank you guys both for your interest and your patience! I have no idea where y'all came from because I've been shockingly inactive lately, so if anybody shared a link to my stories or something, thank you!**


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